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The dizziness slowly passed, and Clay looked around him. A women’s restroom, somewhere within the CNCC. It wasn’t surprising that Ming-Mei’s disorientation would lead her there, but vertigo wasn’t normally a part of that—it must be from exhaustion. He thought for a moment and remembered that Mei had been on the way to the main summit meeting-room. If an attack was imminent, it would be directed there.
He left the restroom and turned in the direction the guy from the elevator had gone. The smell of cooked food permeated the air, reminding his stomach that he hadn’t fed it more than a few dry bread rolls in the past twenty-four hours. A peppery tang made his nose twitch, along with a slight oily undertone of fried batter offset by a citrusy sweetness. His nose and feet led him toward th
